Not-quite-fresh from Ellen’s garden, where he portrayed Nick the Gardener a few years ago, Billy Reilich has entered the OnlyFans world, where he’s been greeted with the expected reception someone well-built and handsome demands. That’s more than enough to crown him Dazzler of the Day, and second acts are always welcome here.
She’s been with us since we moved into our home twenty years ago.
When I realized we had a lamp post in our yard, I immediately went out and got a standard-issue clematis – the basic variety in plain purple that winds itself up and around whatever is available to climb (with some help) and comes back year after year if made decently comfortable.
Clematis follows the trajectory of many vines: the first year it sleeps, the second year it creeps, and the third year it leaps. It’s been leaping for a while now, and though there are years when I neglect it, or forget to tie it up during its main growth spurt in spring, it’s still throwing our flowers and beauty with reliable and consistent attitude.
Clem likes her arms and branches warm, high, and dry, while her roots enjoy shade and water. I’ve indulged her in that respect, planting a ground cover of sedum to keep her patch of earth shaded during the day, and I’ve been fertilizing her well to keep both sedum and her own roots happy and well-fed. Just a little effort brings forth spectacular blooms as seen here, made more remarkable for their appearance at eye-level, and welcome masking of a rather dour lamp post.
There is a small sliver of irony in this summer song, given the fact that I no longer drink wine, but others do, and summer is definitely a time for enjoying liquid nourishment, even if mine doesn’t include alcohol. Mocktails work just as well, and are better for keeping hydrated anyway. Drama arrives in a song, and has no need for hard drinks to aid in its pesky, if occasionally exciting, madness.
The pool glows differently when viewed through the lens of darkness and night, not unlike the different glow one gets from summer wine. While that view has shifted for me, the thrill of a summer night remains the same. Beauty and heat and moths drawn by the light, and the possibility of a midnight dip to quell the sweat.
It was during the summer of 2000 when ‘How We Used to Live’ by Saint Etienne came pouring out of the speakers of my stereo in the Boston condo, and I was packing for a week in Provincetown. To this day, the song signifies summer days, happiness, friendship, and now a nostalgic look back at how things used to be. For the first day of summer, I usually like to look forward and see what new song might inspire the season – this year we’ve been through so much already that revisiting a sound of comfort seems best.
‘How We Used to Live’ is a nine-minute rollercoaster of summer calm and excitement, from a magnificently languid beginning to a little lite dance party that begins to build and kick in at about the halfway mark. Summer ebbs and flows in similar fashion, never entirely one thing or another, constantly changing and winking and evolving. This year it feels especially variable, with hints and shadows of projects possibly to come, and the upcoming 20th anniversary of this website, for which preparations must be made.
Summer, oh summer, how we have waited for you, how much hope and faith we have put in you, and how unfair it all is, for who could ever deliver all that we have wanted and asked? Summer is cruel too, and often unintentionally brutal, but we still love it so. And when have we ever needed an escape more than now? Summer allows for that, and we shall make it happen. Whether it’s a lunch by the pool, with some sweet and fizzy mocktail, or a night in the attic loft, lulled to sleep by the hum of the air conditioner and the pitter-patter of rain upon the roof, summer carries its secret delights.
Such secrets go back over two decades, when this song formed the soundtrack to that friend-filled trip to Provincetown. Kristen and I took the ferry from Boston to Provincetown, beginning a week’s vacation in that magical place at the end of the world. While I don’t revisit the past as a rule, I often go back to this trip. We were in our early twenties, the world unfurled before us filled with all the hope and possibility that youth and luck and privilege affords, and we didn’t even know or exert our power. Summer left us happily in flux, not quite entering our career years, though the more ambitious among us had their eyes on a plan (that most certainly did not include me, who was back in Boston after an ill-fated move to Chicago, and just finding my footing again). This little excursion was a break I needed, to simply have fun, maybe enjoy a summer fling, and return to the city satiated and ready to get serious about something. It was a summer to let go, and we did.
Those carefree days come back to me in pieces now – snippets of a sun-drenched brunch, sipping a cocktail before the choreographed precision of afternoon tea, and lazily laughing with friends on the porch of an inn as the clocks struck midnight and we debated rallying for pizza or heading back to crash. We had no way of knowing that the memories we were making then would prove, for me at least, to be some of the happiest and most carefree I would ever make. Most people don’t realize that sort of thing in their twenties. I felt hints of it, little tugs at the heart that something special was afoot, but back then my heart attributed it to the possibility of romance and love – it never dawned on me that those friendships, those in-between moments, were the real stuff of life.
And so another summer begins, as summers from the past flash across the mind. Summer in a song, summer in a glass, summer in the splash of water falling from a tip of grass as the morning dew jumps away for the day…
Our 2022 BroSox Adventure is now in the books, so while I recover and recuperate from a fun and relaxing weekend away, let’s examine the week that came before as we enter the week of Summer Officiale. On with the weekly recap…
Roses signified the month of June for one of my childhood heroes.
How not to get a job in the future.
This homage to ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ began a long while, but only last week did I find time to conclude its enchantment.
I do love a sweet treat, even if they’re getting slightly less sweet as I get older.
America’s favorite pastime and a return to a happy tradition.
Pecking away at the pretty petunias.
A culprit caught in the act and saved by its own cuteness.
Pass the popcorn and pay attention as this country documents history.
A summer meadow, just before the season begins.
Dazzlers of the Day included Joaquina Kalukango and Stuart Sox.
There was a time when we would walk through a meadow, admiring the wildflowers and lying down on soft mounds of grass, without worry of Lyme disease or fire ants, and the start of summer would signal nothing but hope and dreams. I can’t imagine lying down in a meadow now, and I mourn all those children who won’t have such a carefree sense of joy. Of course there are other joys that children today get, I just wonder how much of it is natural and how much is manufactured. Now I’m starting to sound like the old man I’m quickly becoming, and that was not the point of this post.
The meadow is the point. Because while the meadow may now have new inhabitants, good and bad, it remains largely the same – at least the idea of the meadow remains the same. These days, that’s sometimes all that remains, but it will have to be enough. It is an idea of summer freedom, of carefree moments, of sun and heat and happiness. For me, it’s a collection of childhood memories, and some adult ones as well, as summer visits for three months of every year, and we are constantly adding to our memory vaults if we’re lucky.
The meadows of my youth were mostly just fields that went unattended for a few months when school was out, but the glory of a meadow is how quickly it reclaims its form, even after being mowed down. I admire that resilience and ability to bounce back so quickly after attempted destruction. And even when shorn of her waving grains of future glory, the spirit of the meadow survives, locked in memory. Before this summer even arrives, I’m looking back at some summers that came before, and indulging in a little nostalgia.
After a certain age, every Father’s Day is special, and my Dad reached that age many years ago, so once again I’m offering gratitude and appreciation for the fact that he is still with us. My brother and I have been lucky to have had such a remarkable guy as our inspiration and role model for all these years. We love you Dad!
And to all the other Dads out there, Happy Father’s Day to each of you!
Are you watching the January 6 Hearings?
Because you absolutely should be.
This is our country’s history, happening and unfurling before our very eyes.
It may be the last gasp of democracy as we know it.
If you don’t think that’s worth some of your attention, don’t be surprised if your vote, and your voice, are one day gone.
The pesky destroyer of our petunia patch was caught in the act of more destruction, as seen in this GIF and photo of a snack of ornamental sweet potato leaves. Cheeky and bold, this bunny has captured our hearts, and Andy and I are helpless to do anything but watch with amusement and adoration, even as it takes out half of the garden. Some things are worth sacrificing for a little joy, and a couple of petunias and a sweet potato vine are a small price to pay for such entertainment. And the culprit is so tiny and cute, who can be mad about it?
This scarlet bloom looks like a warning signal of distress, as our small patch of petunias has been rendered practically bare by the baby rabbit who is growing up in our backyard. But the bunny is so cute we can’t bring ourselves to get that mad, even as it strips our sugar snap peas a little more each night.
For now, I have to come up with a new plan for this rather prominent garden space, which I wanted to be filled with color but is thus far filled only with bare dirt and the beginnings of weeds which the rabbit naturally doesn’t seem to like.
It’s been five years since Andy’s Dad passed away, so on that anniversary we went out to dinner to honor the day, as Andy said it would be what his Dad wanted. This Balinese lemonade was my way of toasting a father-in-law who had always been exceptionally kind to me. Andy had the cocktail special of the day at his favorite restaurant, and we had a lovely dinner remembering his Dad.
As we kick off Father’s Day weekend, it is a good time to remember the Dads who are no longer with us.
Our almost-annual BroSox Adventure is happily upon us, as Skip and I head to Boston for a Red Sox game. I’m not sure who is looking forward to it more, as a couple of weeks ago we met up for some pre-planning sushi and he expressed his excitement over it as the traditional mark for the end of a trying school year. I’m certainly in need of an escape too, so this comes at a good time.
Aside from that, our expectations are different and more relaxed than they were eight years ago when we started this fun tradition. Since then, we’ve grown and evolved and so have our trips. Last year we branched out with a fancy night at the Mandarin Oriental, which I enjoyed a bit more than Skip, and it made for a memorable adventure. This year we are going back to basics, returning to the condo as our home base, and possibly venturing out to the seaport area for something new. Stay tuned for that recap…
Helming the fabulous film ‘To Decadence With Love, Thanks for Everything!’ Stuart Sox earns his first Dazzler of the Day crowning thanks to his directorial efforts documenting a trip to Southern Decadence. Check out the trailer for this cinematic extravaganza below.
I absolutely love a sweet treat after lunch or dinner, and that damn Trader Joe’s has plenty of options on that front. (Too many, quite frankly, and it takes a bit of discipline to avoid getting hooked on some delicious thing that’s only found there.) Case in point is the Ube Tea Cookie as seen here. These bite-size beauties incorporate the purple ube tuber (shout-out to the Philippines!) and some sugar and shortbread for a powdered puff of delicious sweetness.
These are little enough to have a few at a time and not be a total glutton (assuming you can keep it to a few) and they are perfect for an afternoon snack with some tea.
And while they are sweet, they are not too sweet, even with that glorious coating of powdered sugar. The older I get, the more I like my sweet-treats on the not-too-sweet side, which makes these little cookies practically perfect.
Concluding this little homage to ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’, a cloud of feathers lends fantasy and freedom to the caged bird motif. A choker of pearls closes tightly around the throat – another cage, another coat of prettiness. Floating on a cloud of sheer ruffles, inhabiting a character like Blanche DuBois is now merely an exercise of play and passing an hour. Such glamorous trappings, such rotten interiors – who could sustain such a real life?
“I’ve been on to you from the start! Not once did you pull any wool over this boy’s eyes! You come in here and sprinkle the place with powder and spray perfume and cover the light bulb with a paper lantern, and lo and behold the place has turned into Egypt and you are the Queen of the Nile! Sitting on your throne and swilling down my liquor!” ~ Tennessee Williams
“What I mean is – he thinks I’m sort of – prim and proper, you know! I want to deceive him enough to make him – want me.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“It’s dark in here… I don’t think I ever seen you in the light… What it means is I’ve never had a real good look at you.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“Yes, I had many intimacies with strangers… So I came here. There was nowhere else I could go. I was played out… and I met you. You said you needed somebody. Well, I needed somebody, too. I thanked God for you, because you seemed to be gentle – a cleft in the rock of the world that I could hide in!” ~ Tennessee Williams
